


In Progress

by jucee



Category: Eyeshield 21
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-02
Updated: 2012-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 14:40:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/420024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jucee/pseuds/jucee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Kyoshin Poseidon team is a work in progress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Progress

The first time that Kakei Shun sees Mizumachi Kengo, they’re walking on opposite sides of the hallway in opposite directions, and for one second, two, their eyes meet above the sea of heads. Mizumachi’s eyes are bright, as if there’s always a smile lurking within them, and Kakei thinks to himself that this is a person he’d like to know.

“Kobanzame-senpai,” Kakei says, bending his head so that he doesn’t have to shout over the noise. “Do you know who that guy is? The tall one, with the blond hair.”

“Hm?” Kobanzame says, looking up from the playbook in his hands to peer around him. “I don’t see anyone! At least, no one tall enough for _you_ to call him tall! Anyway, about this play, Kakei... I don’t get how this formation works!”

“It relies on height, senpai, which is why we need to find some taller players,” Kakei explains without glancing at the playbook. His eyes are fixed on Mizumachi’s back.

***

The first time that Kakei meets Mizumachi is in another hallway, when the club is trying to recruit new members. Later on he will think back and be grateful that Maki chose to place the desk near the girls’ bathroom so that she could touch up her make-up every five minutes; when Mizumachi comes flying down the nearby staircase and lands right beside the desk, his laughing eyes meet Kakei’s unerringly, and something inside Kakei that he hadn’t known was off-balance falls neatly into place.

“Hey! The American football club is accepting new members,” he calls out, a challenging note in his voice. “Only those who have the will to go all the way need apply.”

“That’s why nobody’s applying,” Maki mutters under her breath.

“Huh,” Mizumachi says, staring curiously at Kakei’s uniform taped to the wall. “It’s already July, and you’re still accepting members?”

Kobanzame bursts out into nervous laughter. “Yeah, we look kinda silly doing it this late, don’t we?” he says, and glances sideways at Kakei.

Kakei straightens up to his full height. “It doesn’t matter what month it is,” he says firmly. “If it means winning, I don’t care how silly I look.”

“Hmm,” Mizumachi says with a smile, and taps his chin with one finger thoughtfully. “So what’s your goal, then?”

Kakei looks directly into his eyes, and declares, “To be number one in the country.”

The smile that seems like such an inherent part of Mizumachi fades from both his lips and his eyes, and his expression is inscrutable as he stares back at Kakei. 

While he fills out the club admission form, Kakei reads his name from the top of the page and practises the unfamiliar syllables in his mind: Mizumachi Kengo. Mizumachi Kengo. Mizumachi Kengo.

***

It takes very little time for Mizumachi to learn the basics of American football. Aside from his natural athletic talent, he soaks up information like a sponge, so that by the end of his second week in the club he understands and executes Kakei’s plays better than everybody except Kakei himself. The other new recruits don’t quite measure up to Mizumachi in terms of skill or knowledge, though in Kakei’s opinion, they all seem to be equally loud.

“Fufufu, how could you call yourself Kakei-sensei’s first disciple when you got taken down by Mizumachi so easily?” Onishi says with his nose thrust up in the air disdainfully. Kakei opens his mouth to remind them, yet again, not to call him ‘sensei’.

“Shut up, I _am_ Kakei-sensei’s first disciple!” Ohira howls, possibly because Mizumachi stepped on his arm while standing up. Kakei sighs, and closes his mouth; he decides not to waste his breath.

Apparently unaware of the tears streaming down Ohira’s face, Mizumachi grins at the other two and says, “I dunno ‘bout being a disciple or whatever, but Kakei is totally _my_ teacher.”

“What the fuck,” Onishi and Ohira both say, and tackle Mizumachi to the ground in a tangle of long limbs and wildly punching fists.

For a moment, Kakei seriously contemplates walking away and leaving them to kill each other, but a quick glance at his watch tells him that he needs to break it up. He fishes Mizumachi out of the chaos and informs him, “It’s time for your English lesson.”

“Ai amu amerikan futobooru boi,” Mizumachi agrees. When Kakei rolls his eyes, he adds, “Ai rabu yuu, Kakei-sensei!”

“Hmph,” Kakei says dismissively, but his cheeks feel slightly warmer than usual as he drags Mizumachi away by the collar.

“What the fuck,” Onishi and Ohira say.

***

The night before the game against Deimon, Kakei and Mizumachi walk to the station together after practice as usual.

Kakei is silent, preoccupied with devising back-up plans and back-up plans for his back-up plans. He saw Deimon’s game the weekend before against the Dokubari Scorpions, so he has some idea of what to expect from Hiruma Youichi.

Mizumachi is humming cheerfully to himself, a song Kakei recognises as one that Mizumachi invented in Engrish about scoring a hundred touchdowns. Sometimes Kakei wonders what it’s like to be Mizumachi - to be so carefree, to not feel this weight on his chest and to not wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat because somewhere, deep down in his mind, he knows that they’re not going to make it.

“Hey,” Mizumachi suddenly says, and Kakei looks up from the ground to see Mizumachi standing right in front of him.

“What?” Kakei says, surprised.

Mizumachi lifts his hand and runs the tip of his finger down the strip of skin between Kakei’s eyes. “Stop frowning,” Mizumachi orders, his voice unusually quiet. “Stop worrying. In fact, stop thinking altogether.”

At this, Kakei does stop frowning, and even smiles a little. “At least one of us has to think, you know,” he says dryly.

“Not tonight,” Mizumachi insists, a childish pout beginning to form on his lips. “Just... don’t worry so much.”

“Okay,” Kakei says, and gives Mizumachi a gentle shove to get him to start walking again. “I won’t worry... so much.”

They’re almost at the station when Mizumachi breaks the silence again. “Kakei, do you remember what you told me when I first joined the club?” he asks. “Number one in the country, right?”

Kakei nods slowly. “Right.”

“So we’ll definitely win tomorrow, and we’ll go to the Christmas Bowl!” Mizumachi shouts the last part, his voice ringing out in the empty street, his eyes shining as brightly as the first time that Kakei saw him. 

And in that one moment, without thinking, without worrying, Kakei lets himself believe that they can make it.


End file.
